


As a Goodbye

by nightcore



Series: prompt challenge - the way you said 'i love you' [1]
Category: IT (1990), IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, M/M, i am. so soRRY, implied suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 23:01:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12898707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightcore/pseuds/nightcore
Summary: 35: As a goodbyeStan's not coming back to Derry, and Mike doesn't want to leave any loose ends.





	As a Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> based on a prompt!  
> https://streddie.tumblr.com/post/168134790147/the-way-you-said-i-love-you
> 
> requested by stozierthings on tumblr (35 for stanlon for that prompt thing please!!!)

“Mike,” Stan’s voice was dry. Drier than Mike ever remembered -- like the emotion that had ran through them both a second ago had been completely wiped clean, leaving nothing but the shell of a man. Stan tended to have quite the monotone way of speaking, but this was different. It sent a shudder down Mike’s spine.

“You alright, Stan?” Mike gripped the phone a little harder, leaning away from the library desk and adjusting his posture. He had sat in this desk for 20 years, almost -- and just now, in this moment, it started to feel uncomfortable. The kind of uncomfortable that was shared with the plastic chairs next to his father’s hospital bed. Mike decided this feeling could be attributed to his lifestyle of watching; paying attention to every single, miniscule sign, and pushed it aside, just for now.

“I have to be honest with you.”

“Stan, you have to come back to Derry. It won’t work if you’re not --”

“Let me finish, Mike,” another shudder. Mike had adjusted his position a hundred times, now, since he first dialed the number to the Uris’ home, but he couldn’t seem to get rid of the knot in his back, or the way his shoulders seemed to lay a little differently than they did before. He could hear Stan sigh on the other side of the phone.

“I can’t. I -- you know me, Mike. I can’t. I want to, I do, because I -- I love you guys. All of you. More than anything. I remember all of it.” Stan paused, taking in another breath, “but those things -- the things that I saw, Mike? I’ll never be able to face that again.”

“Stan, you --”

“No, Mike!” There was power behind his words, but still no emotion. It felt like Mike was talking to a broken doll -- one of those that would speak the words it was meant to, but the voice always sounded robotic and misplaced. It had emphasis, cadence, everything, but nothing behind it. Mike’s stomach twisted. “I can’t.”

The seriousness in his tone -- Mike couldn’t bring himself to fight it. He tried, he racked his brain and sifted through a hundred million things to say, but nothing came out. Words died before they reached his tongue and like a rancid mantra repeating itself the only word in his mind was  _hopeless._

_You’re couldn’t even save the person right in front of you  -- how do you expect to save someone that’s a million miles away? It’s hopeless, Michael. There’s nothing you can do._

“I lost my dad a few years back,” Mike started, breaking the silence. Stan didn’t reply, but he heard a sharp intake of breath on the phone, and forced himself to continue. “He died of an illness -- I won’t get into it too deeply; I don’t have enough time for the full story, but I --” Mike paused, sighing. He took the phone away from his face and wiped a tear he didn’t even realize was there. “I never really got to talk to him, much. Was too afraid of what I’d say -- or what I wouldn’t. It hurt a lot to see him like that.”

“Mike…”

“There’s something I remembered. Something that came back to me while we were talking -- it just sort of faded in, like it had always been there.”

“Mike, please don’t do this. Not now.”

“I’m sorry, Stan. I really do hope you’ll come. It won’t be the same without you -- I promise to save you seat.”

“I’ll do my best, Mike. I will.”

_He’s not coming._

“I loved you. More than I loved the others. I still do.”

_I’m never going to see him again._

“I loved you, too.”

The phone clicked as Stan hung up and a wave of dread wracked his body. Tears were coming in full force, now, trailing down his skin and exploding on the carpeted floors of the library. He was shaking and he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to stop it.

Mike spoke into the humming receiver, ignoring the fact his words would not travel through.

“Goodbye, Stanley. I’ll see you soon.”

_Click._


End file.
